


偽

by vflower



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 00:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13869279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vflower/pseuds/vflower
Summary: The time limit expires tomorrow, and someone will take advantage of the First Blood Perk. Amami finds Ouma out in the courtyard, dark, desolate, alone. How many layers of a liar can be pulled back in a single night? The killing game will end, but will Amami's truth end up dead in the end?





	偽

Light from the stars filtered through the boundary of the dome, the thick bars of the birdcage that trapped everyone inside seeming so far away. Ouma Kokichi stood in the middle of the courtyard, his arms hanging at his side, breathing in the night air. He was calm, and the night was cool, a blanket encompassing his entire body and flowing in and out of it like ocean waves. His hair was wet, dripping down onto the stones beneath his feet. A soft towel laid around his shoulders, and his clothes stuck to his body in odd places, showing bare skin where his shirt was wet. He sighed, chills running down his spine. Ouma wiped his eyes with his wrist and turned to head back to the dorms, only to find him standing in his way: Amami Rantarou, his face contorted in a strange expression of concern and curiosity. Ouma gasped, his mouth gaping, trying to gather his bearings within a matter of seconds before Amami could see through him, but—

“Ouma? What’re you doing out here?” Amami asked, approaching slowly with his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“Well—” Ouma huffed and swung his arms, plastering a cheerful expression onto his face. “—Why are you out here, Amami-chan? Isn’t it suspicious to be out at night all alone? Not that you’re not already suspicious.” He nodded a bit to himself, as if agreeing with his own comment. After thinking about it for a second, Amami didn’t seem like the kind of guy to come out at night and kill someone, but you never really know, right? After all, the time limit expired tomorrow. Maybe it was Amami’s plan all along to come out and kill Ouma?... He braced himself, ready to run if he needed to.

“I could say the same to you,” Amami answered casually, walking past the much shorter boy to stand where he had stood before. “No, I just came out for a walk. I don’t know why but being out in the open like this makes me feel calmer. You know?” Framed by the moonlight, his figure seemed even more elegant than he had before. He could see Amami’s shoulders rise and fall with his breath, and he looked so calm gazing up at the moon like that--Ouma just stared, mesmerised, for a moment, then looked up at the sky again, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Uh-huh. I get it! You’re some kind of nerd! Well, that’s to be expected from someone wearing an outfit like _that.”_ Ouma snickered to himself. What a loser. However, Amami seemed unbothered, not even sparing the boy a response as he let out a long sigh. Amami’s hands dropped from his pockets and hung at his sides for a second, before he shut his eyes and slowly turned around to face Ouma again, whose face was lightly dusted with red, and whose eyes reflected the moon like pools of the night sky. Ouma stared back, rocking back and forth on his heels with his hands clasped tightly behind him. He smiled, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. “Amami-chan, did you come here to kill me?”

“Kill?” Amami seemed slightly taken aback, and shook his head, gesturing up towards the sky. “As I said, I came for a walk. It may sound strange, but the night sky out here feels different. Prettier, sort of. You can see every star in the sky.”

“Every star, huh? Well, are you counting yourself?” Ouma asked curiously, genuinely, before he cringed inwardly. Really?! Could he have said ANYTHING lamer?! He paused, studying Amami’s face, before breaking out into laughter and shaking his head. “N-nishishi! I’m just kidding, of course. You’re ugly like a horse’s ass.”

Amami raised an eyebrow and laughed, the sound breaking through the night and barely finding its way to Ouma’s ears, coming and going so quickly he almost reached out to try and catch it. It was soft, carefree, new—it was the laughter of someone who genuinely had no cares in the world, light-hearted and warm. Somebody who had been nurtured their whole life, held hands with their mom, went to the store with their dad, and had their first kiss on the playground. The sound of Amami’s voice was like a blanket, and Ouma held it tightly around him, the hands behind his back clenching so tightly it started to hurt. Amami said something— “are you alright?” or maybe “hey, let’s just be friends”—something that Ouma couldn’t hear, but he knew it meant something—and before he could even breathe he was—

—crying, tears rolling down his cheeks as he wiped them frantically with his arms, but they came too fast and he was too slow. The sound was so warm, and the soft footsteps coming towards him were warm, too. He was so cold. He was so starved—he clutched his arms around him, desperately crying out. _Just give me attention. Just give me attention, anything, please,_ he thought. His skin was crawling, crawling with his own lies, and his own shield was tearing—tearing itself down—and then Amami was next to him, crouching down and looking up into his eyes. Amami’s eyes were honest and calm, like a cat’s, and they asked no questions but so many at the same time.

He asked something, but this time it was “are you alright?” for sure, and Ouma nodded in response. He put a brave face on, smiling in a sort of messed-up way. “I’m so sowwy, Amami-chan. I called you ugly… I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he insisted jokingly, a hint of nervousness showing in his expression. “It was just a joke. You’re not that ugly.” But Amami’s face was serious now. He seemed to see right through the jokes, piercing through the mask and staring Ouma Kokichi directly in the eyes.

“I’m not kidding, it’s not a joke. I’m being serious. Are you alright?” Amami asked. Ouma shivered, wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs and laughing blithely, non-genuinely, standing up straight and maintaining his façade of confidence.

“Of course, Amami-chan. You’re being way too serious about all this! I can cry on command, you know.” He smiled, clapping his hands together, a sound that echoed harshly through the empty space around them, which seemed to be filled with floating stars, lighting up in abstract patterns. In his head, he could feel himself crying hysterically, reaching out for Amami, but instead he held his chin high and turned his back to the boy, swinging his hands enthusiastically as he walked away. He scoffed and made the journey back to his room, not once looking behind him until he was opening the door and heard a shuffle behind him. He whipped around, holding his room key out as some kind of makeshift sword. But it was only Amami, tall and handsome and mysterious, the same serious look on his face as before.

“Jeez! Lighten up, Amami-chan. I didn’t really think you were going to hurt me! I’m sorry! Now bugger off!” Ouma puffed his cheeks out, stepping into his room and moving to close the door before Amami shoved through it, grabbing Ouma’s forearm firmly.

“I’m not going to fall for any of this anymore. If there’s something you don’t want to tell me, then just say that outright. Skirting around an answer doesn’t do you any good.” Amami sounded harsh. Ouma averted his eyes, scrunching his nose up.

“Who said I needed _your_ help?” Ouma scowled, pulling his arm away. “I don’t need to trust anybody. No matter who it is, everyone will fall to this game somehow! And being trusting like that is exactly how to get yourself killed!” He tried to match the tone of Amami’s voice, but tears welled up in his eyes and he choked as they poured out, making one last attempt to slam the door shut on Amami before stumbling backwards and throwing himself onto his bed. He rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in his sheets. Amami didn’t understand. Nobody in this stupid academy understood—nobody but him himself, and it seemed he couldn’t even trust himself either! Crying in front of somebody like this was just—!

“You don’t have to worry,” Amami murmured, sitting next to the smaller boy and stroking his hair softly. “I’ll stop this killing game. Trust me. It’ll be fine if you don’t worry about it. Just keep living your life here as normal, okay?” he sank down onto his elbows, and soon he was lying behind Ouma, who could feel Amami’s body heat press closer and closer to his back.  

“Stop it,” Ouma whined, rolling over to face him and finding him much closer to him than he had previously thought. He scooted back a bit. His breath caught in his throat. He could barely speak with Amami so close to him—and Amami reached out his hand, running his weathered thumb over Ouma’s cheek and saying soft words of encouragement. Ouma coughed, a wail building up in his chest as he found himself pressing his face into Amami’s warm body and holding his arms around him as tightly as he could manage. His sobs came fast and hard, and all the time he was crying and shaking in pure terror Amami just stayed, calm and incredibly blanket-like. Ouma felt himself melting into the other boy’s body, and he found himself waking up in jolts a few times before he really fell asleep, his cheek turning red from being pressed against Amami’s chest for so long.

When he woke up, he was alone. The experience he had had last night felt like a dream, and he briefly wondered if it _had_ been, but the lingering warmth on his body and the faint earthy smell left behind on his sheets told him otherwise. Yes, Amami had been here, with _him,_ in his own bed, holding onto him tightly as he cried. Ouma stared at the wall, before his face became flushed and he curled up, clutching his pillow close to his face. What had he done!!! Out of all the people to let into his room late at night—of all the people to cuddle as he fell asleep—Amami Rantarou!!! And he hadn’t said a single word in refusal! Ouma berated himself silently until the telltale dings from the loudspeaker greeted the Monokubs’ shrill morning announcement. “Rise and shine, ursine!” echoed through his room, and he sat up slowly, breathing deeply as he made his way over to his closet and got dressed. He wanted to hurry to the dining hall before Amami got there—he wasn’t sure if he could face him, and he sure didn’t want to try! He bounded out of his room as he would if anyone were watching, and there she stopped him.

“Heewwwooo! Good morning!” Angie popped up out of nowhere, startling Ouma. He hopped backwards and threw his hands up. Before he could even respond, Angie started again, “So, have you decided how you want to spend your last day?” she asked, swinging from side to side. Oh yeah. The time limit. Ouma felt almost sick as he threw up a stern look and a lecturer’s voice, putting one hand on his hip and the other pointing up to the sky. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but it sure looked smart.

“Last day? You’re kidding. Nobody’s dumb enough to kill me. I’m too slippery! Nishishi!” and with that Ouma tore off the mask and painted on a new one, tears welling up in his eyes as he clasped his hands together, giving Angie his best puppy dog eyes. “Unless you mean nobody will kill at all… and we’ll all be executed…!” he paused for effect, then dropped it entirely. “Nah, that would be the boring outcome. Catch ya later, Angie!!” he snickered and ran off, waving comically behind him. Angie waved back in reply, laughing her dumb girl sort of laugh before turning back to the door to greet someone else.

Well, it could’ve been worse. At least it wasn’t Amami he had run into! Ouma went the short way to the dining hall, cracking the terrace door open to peek inside—but Amami was already there, along with Hoshi and Toujou! Out of all the people to run into, he couldn’t ridicule himself in front of the _other_ two most serious students in the whole school, and not only that, but they all seemed _pissed_!! Ouma delicately pushed the door shut and hurried away from it, all the way over to the bandshell in the courtyard. He threw himself down on a bench and huffed. It was just too difficult…! He couldn’t live somewhere that Amami would be, too! He looked up tiredly at the dormitory door, only to see Akamatsu hit the Angie roadblock. God, not her! He tried his best to blend into the surroundings, not wanting anyone to see his flushed face, but as soon as he looked up again Akamatsu was heading right over to him with Angie in tow. She seemed high-strung, her hair still somewhat tousled from bedhead as it framed her clear, delicate-seeming face. Huh. Unlike Amami’s polished roughness, Akamatsu looked just like a china doll! She was pretty in her own element, but her pretty face was tied up with panic.

Ouma threw his legs up on another bench and held his hands behind his head, flashing the girls a docile grin. “Hey, what’s up? You seem super panicked. Did you hear about the fighting?” he asked, thinking back to the dining hall. He wasn’t sure if they had heard.

Kaede looked taken aback, a slightly suspicious look on her face as she said, “Y-yeah, I have! Hey, if you know about the fight, why aren’t you doing anything to stop i—”

Ouma scoffed, leaning over and pressing his finger to his cheek, pulling his legs up to sit criss cross applesauce on the bench. “Why _should_ I? Something’s _finally_ happened to break up all this boring tedium.”

“Boring?!”

He continued, pointing a finger at her and Angie, puffing his cheeks out. “Anyway, you didn’t forget, did you, Akamatsu-chan? The time limit ends _tonight,_ at 10 p.m.! It’s right around the corner! If people are taking control of the situation to save their own asses, who are you to intervene?!?” Akamatsu fell silent, running her hand through her hair in exasperation. Ouma huffed. He felt like a hypocrite, being so afraid of death like this but too afraid to do anything…! At the same time, he sort of wished the fight would just _end_ so he could get breakfast without Amami there, so… “Well, who am I to intervene, right?!? So, do your thang, Akamatsu-chan! Go stop ‘em!”

Akamatsu blinked, seeming surprised for a second, like she didn’t believe he was actually telling her to do something! She looked back at Angie, then nodded awkwardly. “Y-yeah,” she mumbled, before turning and running off towards the front doors of the academy. Ouma glanced over at the doors of the dormitory again. Luckily, aside from Maki slinking darkly away, they seemed to be mostly unguarded now. He had seen enough for today—he was exhausted, and he hadn’t slept that long last night, anyway. A quick nap until everything passed would be fine, he figured, so he left his post and made his way back to his soft, warm bed. He fell into the mattress like sinking into warm butter. He wrapped the sheets and blankets around him like a cocoon, and he felt warm— _not as warm as Amami had felt—_ warm enough to fall asleep. For now, everything was right in the world.

_“Ding, ding, ding, ding! A body has been discovered! Everyone, please gather in the library!”_

What? What? What? Ouma sat up, throwing the sheets off of his body and clambering to his feet, still blinking sleep from his eyes. A body? He looked around, surveying his well-being. No, he wasn’t hurt. But still, his fists clenched as he threw the door open, looking around frantically for anyone that was doing the same—Kiibo, thank god—and the two of them ran wordlessly, breathlessly, out the doors of the dormitory. His mind was racing. Who was it? Who did it? Who was dead? Why? Why? Why? Was it Angie? Akamatsu? Saihara? Hoshi? Or, he thought with a pang, tears coming to his eyes, Amami? Kiibo had overtaken him slightly as they took multiple steps at once down the stairs and Toujou and Hoshi and Shirogane and Iruma and Shinguuji were with him so who, who, who, _who, who, who who who who—_

_Amami, wordlessly, motionlessly, cold on the library floor. His blood in a lake, smelling like death._ Ouma couldn’t help it and tears welled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, and he cried, and he wailed Amami’s name, begging for him not to have left. Except this time nobody was going to hold him like Amami had. Except this time, they were just fake tears. Right? Right? Right? The people in the room, his _classmates,_ if you could even call them that, paid no mind to him, discussing among themselves. He was alone. Alone. Nobody in this whole goddamned academy gave a shit about him crying, not a single person, nobody cared at all—but he could _see_ it in Akamatsu’s eyes, _fear, remorse,_ the look of _somebody_ who had _hurt_ another _person, who had hurt Amami,_ _and he hoped, just for a second, that somebody would do it to her, too._

The First Blood Perk said there would be no trial, _but he hoped there was._ He hoped Akamatsu Kaede would keep her dumb mouth shut and he hoped he could see the colour drain from her face as she faced the last moments of her life.

But, whatever. He closed his eyes, stretching his fingers out behind him. This was the most exciting outcome, right? This was what he wanted to happen, right? He painted a cool smile on his face, propping his arms up behind his head and keeping his body light. This was the outcome that the Super High School Level Supreme Leader wanted, and he would waltz through it with a calm smile on his face. He opened his eyes again, ready to face Akamatsu Kaede’s optimistic walkthrough, joining cheerfully in on the japing and the banter that his outside shell liked to portray. If he just had this mask, there was no weakness that would end his life in this killing game. If he just had this mask on, he would _survive,_ and he would escape at the end with everyone else, like he was meant to do.

 

“You’re alone, Kokichi. And you always will be.” Sure. As long as he had the mask on, he was fine.

Just for a second, when he felt the end of his life pressing against his bare chest and coursing through his veins, he let the mask come off. _Amami was right there, on the other side, waiting for him. Just for a second, he felt Saihara’s lie. It made him feel powerful._


End file.
